Seeping Through the Pixels
by crowleymurderous
Summary: "Humans can try to give their life a purpose, but in the end, they are all the same. Who is to say they are more powerful than the lowly maggot, who in turn will feast on their corpses?" In which the game isn't just a game anymore.
1. Chapter 1

_Tap tap tap _went the keyboard. _Tap tap tap tap._

It was a late Friday night, and no one was around to disturb the teenager as he tapped continually on his laptop. Often times he would sigh, adjust the glasses that sat snugly on the bridge of his nose, and resume whatever thing he was doing.

What _was_ he doing, you ask?

Well, just like any college student, he favored some sort of entertainment (not _that _kind of entertainment) to soothe his stress after a long week of college. For most males his age, they would be out partying or having sex or doing drugs, but this particular teenager was interested in none of it. He was what people would call a nerd. Why, because he wore glasses and prioritized his grades above anything else? Because he was still a virgin and, apparently, only virgins played video games?

Hell no.

Well, maybe.

_Tap tap tap-_

_Ping!_

_User SexyWiddleSlayer wants to talk to you._

_Accept/Decline_

The teenager sighed and clicked the _Accept _option on the Skype interface. Almost immediately his speakers were blasted by a painfully loud mix of a screech and laughter. He recognized that sound, which could only belong to his ADHD-ridden, spikey-haired, drummer friend Desmond Tanner.

"Hey man!" greeted Desmond. "I read that thing you suggested. What was it called – fan fiction?"

"First off, I didn't suggest it to you," replied the teen as a matter-of-factly, "you just saw it on my blog. I did no 'suggesting' whatsoever."

"Well, that fanfic did." The drummer winked, and busted out laughing when he saw the disturbed expression on his friend's face. "Anywho, whatcha doing?"

"I'm just trying to forget about today," the teen said, almost exasperatedly.

"Aww, something happen, Tyler?" Desmond teased. He then gave an unnerving close-up for his cheek, which had a startlingly large bruise. "Me too! Well, kinda."

How had Tyler missed the massive swelling on his friend's cheek? "Oh God, what happened?"

"Some asshole tried to mug me on my way home. I gave him a good beating and left him to the police." He smiled. "Just a normal day at college. How did your day go? The professor still a jerk to everybody?"

The bespectacled teen sighed and rubbed his temples (either he did that for dramatic effect, or his day was just that bad). "Yes, unfortunately. I'm surprised no one has complained to the principal yet."

"Maybe they did already!"

"Maybe not."

"Aw, don't be so grumpy, Ty! C'mon, let's play a bit of that game you're obsessed with."

"Correction, _you _are the one who's obsessed with it, not me."

"You do know what game I'm talking about, right?"

"...I think."

"Alright, let's just say the name at the same time!"

Desmond adjusted his position on his side of the call to fit inside the Skype webcam screen. He then started a countdown with three of his fingers.

3...

2...

1...

"Minecraft!"

"GTA."

"Wait, what?"

"I assumed you meant Grand Theft Auto," Tyler confessed. But he couldn't shake the smile off his lips.

The other male faked hurt. He even went as far as to force tears out his eyes, surprising Tyler. "And I thought we were on the same train! But alright, let's play Minecraft."

"I already was."

"Is that what you were doing?"

The teen looked embarrassed, humiliated even, that his friend had figured out his favourite game. "Um, yes."

And Desmond, being the hyperactive guy he was, eagerly insisted that no time be wasted. "Awesome! Let's get to it, then!"

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! I couldn't really will myself to write more; after all, this is my first story! But even if it is my first, I won't ask you guys to go easy on me. I just don't roll that way, yo! **

**Reviews of all sorts are appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oh goodness, another chapter?**

**Thank you BlazetheDragonite for my first ever review! I don't think I would have continued without at least one review (how lonely does that sound? haha). And thank you again, for mentioning two important things, which I will mention now:**

**1. There won't be any Youtuber appearances (sorry!) but there will be mentions of them.**

**2. I'm not accepting OCS, mainly because this is my first story, and I'd like to have pride in myself knowing that this is all my work.**

**Remember: I own nothing here except my characters and the story!**

"Okay okay okay, so lemme get this straight," said Desmond after he'd just closed his game of Minecraft. "_How _many coal pieces does it take to smelt a stack of stuff?"

"Eight," replied Tyler, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Because a stack is 64, correct? And one piece of coal will smelt 8 items, so if you used 8 pieces of coal with a stack of, let's say, food, which would be 64-"

"Oh, God. My brain hurts from the math. I can't even."

"...Maybe you can odd?"

Desmond doubled over with laughter, causing Tyler's speakers to muffle at the sheer volume of the sound. "Goddammit, Tyler! You fuckin' genius!"

"I am not having any sort of intercourse with a brilliant person," said the glasses-wearing teen in a sly tone. His jokes were always word-related ones.

"See?" The drummer continued to laugh. "That's what I mean! God, you are just _hilarious._ Seriously."

"Thank you," replied Tyler, this time with sincerity. Small words of praise were hard to come by these days.

Desmond, after finally getting over the giggles, then asked, "So you're gonna sleep now? I mean, sure it's Saturday tomorrow, and we've all got free time, and – hey, you think we can jam with Craig again?"

Craig was the vocalist of their band, also known as Sleepyheads. It would be a lie to say that that was the full name of the band (Sleepyheads and Music Dreads – what a mouthful!). He was both a beloved member and a good friend, but because of college duties, the band had to go on hiatus for a couple of months. Bringing his name into the conversation almost surprised Tyler, not because he had forgotten about Craig, but because he realized that they hadn't talked to each other _during the entire hiatus._

"Tyler! Hey man, you even listenin'?"

He always had a knack for sinking into a reverie.

"Um, what were we talking about?"

Desmond laughed at his friend's ridiculous habit of spacing out. "I said maybe we could catch up with him! Y'know, like meet up for coffee or something. But meeting up for coffee is only for adults!"

"Des," said Tyler, "we _are_ adults. Technically young adults. Ready to shape reality with our hopes and ideals."

"Wow, bro. You should write some poetry or something."

"I _do _write poetry. I write all sorts of things for my blog." See, Tyler's dream job was to become a famous author.

"Oh, right. Man, my ADD is really kicking in, huh? Anyway, I'm tired as fuck and I got a thing tomorrow, so goodnight my brutha!"

The other male nodded in contentment. "Goodnight, then."

And they disconnected.

Just as the Skype screen was closed, a pop-up appeared on the bottom-right corner, warning Tyler that his laptop battery was starting to run out. He sighed in exhaustion from playing Minecraft and dealing with Desmond's random freakouts whenever a mob ambushed them. He then grabbed the charger from his study desk, and connected it to the socket and the laptop. _Hopefully I'll have more time to write something tomorrow, _he thought. _Maybe about Minecraft. Hah, that'll get me some views._

So after dressing himself into his night clothes, Tyler jumped into bed and drifted off immediately, his dreams filled with hissing Creepers, bleating sheep, punching wood, tall sugar cane stalks, and cave spelunking.

The perfect Minecraft dream.

**A/N: Still not a long enough chapter :/ But oh well! I'm happy that I managed to even write something, since typing on the computer isn't exactly comfortable (I'm practically **_**dying **_**in this tropical summer heat!). So I hope you guys enjoyed this dialogue-filled chapter (I felt the need to show the contrast between calm Tyler and hyperactive Desmond), because I sure did.**

**Reviews of all sorts are appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yet another chapter for you guys! I was actually shocked that I got like what, 4 reviews? That's a **_**big **_**thing to me! Oh, I forgot to mention that I'll only be able to update on weekdays and not weekends (It's Friday now where I am). And I apologize if nothing interesting is happening in the chapters so far. I like to take my sweet time developing the characters and the plot, so when shit hits the fan, it hits **_**hard.**_

It was a boring routine.

Wake up, go to college, go home, forget about college, sleep.

Tyler was getting sick of it. Although nothing truly bad had happened, he just felt extremely disturbed by... by _something. _He just couldn't quite figure it out. He'd heard that the constant feeling of unsatisfaction was a symptom of OCD, but he wasn't unsatisfied. Just... afraid, maybe?

Afraid of what?

It didn't help that his brand-new laptop, the one he specifically bought for college, was dying a little every time he used it. Even after charging it overnight, it would come up with having only half the battery left in the morning. _How bothersome_, Tyler would say to himself. _I'll need to have it checked._

And so he eventually did.

"I'm sorry sir, but nothing appears to be broken," said the employee at a gadgets store. "If the charger is the problem, we'd be happy to replace it, so long as it has a warranty."

"My warranty has expired already, so I suppose I'll have to buy another one," replied Tyler in a dry tone. "I just hope it's worth it."

The employee just smiled.

* * *

It was nearing dusk when Tyler made his way home from the shop. He was a little upset that he wasted his precious money on a new charger than may or may not remedy his laptop problem. As he mulled it over, a loud ringing emitted from his pants pocket and cut through the warm spring air, completely snapping him out of his thoughts.

_Oh. It's just my phone._

"Hello?" Tyler greeted.

"_Guess who this is!" _replied the singsong voice. A voice that brought memories of band practice and singing and trying on the most fashionable clothes on the block.

"Craig? Is that you?"

"_Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!" _He laughed on his end of the call. _"What's up, man? I haven't talked to you since _forever!"

"I'm on my way home from the tech store down the street."

"_Did you buy something?"_

"I had to. My laptop's been giving me some problems these past few days." He paused to navigate his way through the dormitory he currently resided in.

Craig didn't even notice the pause. _"Really? What a coincidence! My laptop's being a jerk to me, too!"_

Tyler took out the keys to his dorm room and opened the unlocked door. He was greeted by the sight he was so tired of seeing: the same study desk, the same organized papers and books, the same neatly arranged furniture. Ironically, the cleanliness seemed vile to him.

"How have things been going with you?" Tyler finally said after a long silence.

"_Same old, same old." _You could practically hear the smile in his voice. _"But it's a pretty chill lifestyle. Like I wake up every morning looking forward to something. I don't know what I'm doing differently; I just, y'know, play the guitar, hang with friends, hang with my girlfriend, et cetera, stuff like that."_

"That's great, actually. I'm stuck in a routine as well, but unlike you, I don't look forward to anything." He frowned and laid his exhausted body on the bed. "Perhaps I'm missing something. I just don't know _what._"

"_Maybe you just need some spice in your life! Whaddaya say to some jamming? Just me and you, vocalist to bassist, chillin' and doing drugs, or whatever floats your boat."_

The bespectacled teen sat up and fit his phone between his ear and shoulder as he removed his shoes and started to dress down. "I don't do drugs, Craig." Then, with worry creeping in, he added, "Do you?"

"_Nah, man. That ain't my thing. A couple of dudes I know do it, but, well, y'know. I don't want to ruin my beautiful voice."_

"Is that so? Well, I'd love to catch up with you some time. When and where?"

"_My college, my dorm, room 213, this Saturday. Just knock twice and I'll know it's you." _He cleared his throat. _"So, uh, I guess I'll see you then?"_

"Yes, of course. See you."

"_And bring your bass!"_

"I will."

Tyler then hung up.

He suddenly remembered about the newly-bought charger, and, with his hopes tied in a tight bundle of expectations, connected it to the laptop. He eagerly waited for something to happen as he sat by the study desk. The laptop was practically life to him! He did everything there, from making college reports, to updating his blog, to chatting with friends online. If it was dead, then he may as well be dead, too.

A minute passed. Two minutes. Five. Ten.

And yet the laptop was still not charging.

Tyler's first impulse was to blame the tech shop for scamming him, but then he realized, _no scam would ever risk using a warranty system. _So what would he do now? Who or what would he blame? Then again, what use would blaming anything be? To vent his anger and frustration?

...No. He was not that sort of person.

So, as useless and upsetting as it was, Tyler simply left the laptop charging overnight. What little hope he had left diminished as quickly as the laptop's battery. He may have to consider buying a new laptop, but that would definitely hurt his allowance, and who knows? It might have the same problem. Even Craig's laptop was giving him problems; of which the sort Tyler wasn't aware of, but he was almost sure his friend was stuck in the same situation as he was. Whatever the reason was for the damn laptop not charging, Tyler hoped he would forget about it in the morning.

He didn't.

**A/N: I'm quite happy with this! It's long and it has more character development. And whoo, finally, some problems to add to the boring drone of this story! I'm just wondering if you guys sympathize with poor Tyler...?**

**Reviews of all sorts are appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It is swelteringly hot where I am. I'm not even kidding. I can practically feel the heat waves brush past my skin as I'm typing this. It's the main reason why I don't feel like writing much.**

**Anywho, my eyes are hurting from being on the computer for too long, so sorry for the short chapter.**

* * *

Tyler awoke to his alarm, like he did everyday. He rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the sunlight coming from the blinds and yawned sleepily. _Yet another day of college, _he thought to himself. _Same old routine._

He grabbed his glasses and lazily made his way to the kitchen, where the glorious machine known as the coffee maker was. Out of instinct, he checked his phone for any new messages, but was met with disappointment when he found nothing. What was he expecting to find, anyway? A text from a fellow student? _Hah! _Like anybody ever talks to him.

The teen then put the preferred coffee powder inside the machine, filled it with hot water he'd prepared earlier, and pressed the button. As he waited in his seat on the small table, something caught his eye. Something that was not meant to be, but _was._

The coffee wouldn't be done in a few seconds, so Tyler had some time to spare; enough to inspect whatever he'd noticed. It was his laptop, still connected to the charger and still not charging. But he took a closer inspection and noticed that the laptop was _on._ He clearly remembered turning it off before he went to bed, and he surely remembered the disappointment he felt as he did that night. _How strange,_ he thought, squinting his eyes in suspicion. _The charger must have done something to it. Something that definitely did _not _involve charging._

Sighing, Tyler returned to the coffee maker, where a freshly brewed batch of steaming hot coffee sat waiting for him. He didn't even bother making breakfast; what kind of college student has time to eat in the morning, anyway? A simple mug of black coffee, with no sugar or cream added as per to his preference, was enough to fill his appetite. Sipping on the bitter beverage as he checked on his blog with his phone was also part of the routine he hated so much. The only thing different was the laptop, but Tyler had already included _that _to the mundane cycle of everyday life.

Life sucked.

* * *

Saturday finally came.

He couldn't believe it, but Saturday _finally _came.

Oh, how wonderful it was to finally break out of the weekday routine! And what's more, he had a friend to visit! Now _that _wasn't part of the usual agenda.

Tyler couldn't contain his excitement. He hid it pretty well, donning the ever-serious expression on his face, but the occasional smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and that was enough to make him look excited. As he packed his precious black-and-white bass guitar in its case, he contemplated whether or not to bring his faulty laptop as well, to compare it to Craig's laptop. Was it worth the extra weight?

He would just have to find out.

* * *

As his friend instructed, Tyler rapped at Room 213's door twice, and only twice. Another knock would mean a different person had come to visit. The door opened almost after he'd knocked, to reveal a rather handsome brunette dressed in clothes no ordinary student should wear on a Saturday. The room that lay past him smelled faintly of newly-washed laundry.

"Hey, uh, glad you could make it!" said the brunette, grinning widely. "Come on, come inside. I've got my guitar and amp ready and everything."

So Tyler entered the room, almost hesitantly, only to be greeted by the sight of dozens of band posters that hung on the walls, some of them with autographs, others without. There wasn't much light in the room, whatever light there was must have been purposely dimmed, for reasons he couldn't fathom. Overall, the dorm was nice, but too chaotically organized for his taste.

Craig was busy plugging his guitar cord to the amp, which emitted the constant screech in a pitch only dogs should be able to hear. "So you brought your laptop, huh?"

Tyler nodded. He was currently standing in the middle of the room, unsure of where to sit and where to place his belongings. "You share a dorm with someone, right?"

"Yep." The vocalist didn't even look up from his cross-legged position on the floor. "He's out most of the time, but when he does come back, he's usually drunk and or stoned. I just hope he doesn't have any weed stash here; I'd be in serious trouble!"

"Just be careful around him."

"Of course. It's still a shame Desmond and I weren't put in the same dorm."

"Indeed."

After a few seconds of fumbling around with the guitar and amp, Craig managed to set it at the right volume and, with the excitement of a young teenager, he shredded an epic guitar solo that practically shook the walls. "Yeah! That's what I'm talking about! Man, does _that_ feel _good._"

Tyler finally decided to set his bass guitar on the floor, as his legs were starting to shake from the heavy weight. Craig's guitar was still hooked up to the amp, so bringing his bass out wasn't really an option. What he did instead was take out his laptop from his bag (which was still warm from being on the entire time), put it on his lap, and sigh loudly. Sometimes, when Craig got too absorbed in his favorite hobbies, it would take quite a while to snap him out of it. So Tyler's sighing wasn't genuine; it was intentional.

Finally Craig took notice of his friend's crestfallen look. "Laptop's still buggy, huh? And - wait, is that dirt?" He pointed to the laptop.

"Dirt?" As if Tyler had never heard the word before.

"Yeah, dirt. Or is that soil?"

The bassist refused to believe he had somehow gotten dirt on his laptop, but decided to check anyway. And right smack in between the keyboard and the screen was dried brown soil, crusting around the edges like old milk.

'What... what in the world?" muttered Tyler in complete bewilderment. As far as he knew, he did not come across any sort of mud puddle, and he surely did not drop anything on the ground during his walk to the college.

So _how?_

Craig huffed and snatched the laptop from his friend. "Just some mud here and there. Easily remedied." With a bit of cleaning using his nails and palms (definitely not with his clothes; they were just _too _precious to him), he managed to get all the soil off.

Tyler breathed a sigh of relief and cracked a small smile. "Thank you."

"What seems to be the problem with this thing, anyway? Battery probs? 'Cause that's the same situation with my laptop." Without Tyler's permission, the vocalist flipped open the gadget and immediately scanned through the programs. Nothing seemed out of place so far, except the battery was now perpetually down to 1/3 of its life. No programs were open, except one that caught Craig by surprise.

"You still have Minecraft open? How long has it been running?"

Wait, _what?_

"M-Minecraft?" Tyler stammered.

"Yeah. Your game is paused or something. Maybe that's what's draining your battery."

_What? _The glasses-wearing teen was surprised. He took the laptop from Craig's hands (with less force than the brunette had used earlier) and sure enough, Minecraft was open. With an uneasy hand, Tyler moved the cursor to the 'X' on the corner and clicked it. Contrary to his expectations, the game actually closed.

_Thank God._

"I could have sworn the game wasn't open," he said in a shaky tone.

"Maybe you probably should have used Task Manager or something. I dunno. I haven't played the game in a while." Craig tried to reassure his friend with a pat on the back. "But hey! Now that you closed the game, maybe your battery will replenish. Give it a try."

So, he did.

**A/N: What's that I see over the horizon? It's... it's... a plot?!  
Finally got some stuff done! Mysterious dirt, Minecraft open, a dying battery life... what could it all mean? :}**

**Reviews of all sorts are appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

Disappointment. Everywhere.

You could practically _feel _it, like an intoxicating gas that lingered in the air for too long.

It was suffocating, almost.

After Tyler had visited Craig's dorm and experienced weird problems with his laptop (remember the dirt?), he gave up and went back home, where he knew he would practically retch at the sight of the same old room. He started seriously considering buying a new laptop; he had the money, sure, but only just enough. Buying one would mean he wouldn't be able to spend even a single penny on anything that isn't necessary, not even on food.

Upon arriving back at his dorm, Tyler quietly laughed to himself, _at _himself, for living up to the unspoken stereotype that writers and artists alike are stubborn enough to get their shit done, even if it meant completely ignoring their health and money for work. Had he really gone that far down the hole of desperation? Or would he climb out of it, alive but unproductive?

So he decided to abandon his blog and story-writing, at least for the time being, until he could find an alternative route to connect to the anonymous society that is the internet. Not only that, but no laptop meant no college papers could be done. At least the library at his college allowed students to use their computers. It was almost heartbreaking to give up his personal work, but it had to be done. No other option was available.

After about a week of rushed assignments and reports, Tyler received a call.

"Hello?" he greeted.

_"Yo! What up, man?"_

"Ah, Desmond. Good evening."

_"Dude, did you see the news?"_

"News?" Now he was growing worried.

_"Yeah, man. Some sort of bombing or terrorist attack destroyed a place somewhere, I dunno."_

Tyler couldn't hide his sympathy and worry. "That's awful..." Then, he added, "Did anybody... die?"

_"Just one casualty. It was the dude who ran the shop there."_

"Oh, God... What caused the explosion?"

_"Police think it was 'cause of some screw-up with batteries the dude sold there or something." _Desmond paused. _"Of all people, Ty, I thought _you'd _know. Seems like you're invisible these days. Where have you been?"_

_Of course, _Tyler thought. His laptop had been his primary source of information, including the news. No wonder he hadn't heard anything lately.

"My apologies," he said with a hint of sadness. "I just couldn't get a hold of current events at the moment."

The male on the other end laughed. _"Nah, no worries, man. I just called to see how you were doing."_

"...Really?"

_"Yeah, man. I thought you happened to be at the shop that got destroyed, since, y'know, you were having trouble with your laptop. Craig told me."_

Tyler couldn't believe what his friend was telling him. Desmond, the seemingly insensitive hyperactive sports junkie who made rude jokes all the time, was actually _worried. _"You were... concerned for me?"

_"Of course I was, dude! Jesus, if you'd seen my face when I saw the news, you'd believe me." _The drummer hesitated before quietly saying, _"I thought you were gone, dude. I fuckin' missed you."_

All feelings of sadness and disappointment were replaced by joy. Not the explosive kind of joy that makes you want to hug everybody, but instead the kind of joy that tugs at the corner of your lips to make you smile. It was a quiet joy, meant only to be celebrated within the invisible boundaries of every human being's ability to feel satisfaction. "That's... actually really nice to know. I'm touched by your concern."

_"Why, that sounded almost flattering, Tyler Vex!" _Desmond guffawed his howl of a laughter. _"I'm just glad you're safe. It'd be a shame for you to be gone. I mean, who else would I talk to? Who else would make a blog worthy of an award?"_ The bassist said nothing, so Desmond continued._ "See, man, that's how fucking great you are. Enough to make you speechless."_

Tyler was on the verge of crying. He had never thought anybody treasured him that much. As somebody who was always picked on as a kid because of his low self-esteem, it was almost unreal to hear such sincere words of praise. He gripped his phone tighter and managed to speak. "I'm touched, Desmond. I really am. Life isn't really great for me right now, and I thought... I truly thought... that without my one connection to the outside world, everybody would start to abandon me. Why didn't you?"

_"What are you even saying, dude? What kind of douchebag ditches their friend just because they don't talk to each other? I ain't that kind of guy, and you know that. I'm sure the fans of your blog miss you just as much as I do." _The last bit sounded too sentimental for Desmond's nature, but he just let it slide.

"Thank you, sincerely. I appreciate the effort you put into reconnecting with me."

_"The connection was never lost, man."_

Tyler couldn't help but smile. "That makes me very happy. And I would love to talk to you again some time."

_"Of course! I'll call you again, alright?"_

"Alright. Goodbye, and thanks again."

The grin could be heard in the drummers voice. _"No worries, man. See ya."_

And they hung up.

**A/N: Well, that's the end of this feel-filled chapter! Is it bad that I actually ship my own OCs...? ;u;**

**I'd like to ask you guys a question: Should I make the chapters longer or keep it around this length? My usual goal for ever chapter is usually around 1,000 words (which I kind of struggle with already), and in my opinion, I feel like I should make it longer. But what do you guys think? Whatever choice you choose, I will keep to it no matter how difficult because I love you all :] Note that longer chapters may take a longer while to upload.**

**Also tell me if you secretly ship DesTy (because I totally do!). If you do, I may add more fanservice moments for you lovelies. But it's alright if you don't.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

_"Let's get some coffee, dude."_

"I need to get up early tomorrow, Des. I can't go out now. It's way too late to go for coffee."

_"C'mon, man! I'll be busy the day after and the days after that and the days_ after _that and-"_

"Alright, alright. Where exactly? What shop?"

_"Y'know the one down Voyeé Road?"_

"No."

_"Aw, shit. Well, there's this diner-café kind of place there called Elan."_

"Elan?"

_"Yeah, that's the name. The entrance has this huge statue of an angel covered in flowers. You can't miss it."_

"So I have to leave now? As in, _now_?"

_"Yeah, dude! I'm already here!"_

"_What?_"

_"C'mon, man! Don't keep me waiting!"_

"But Desmond-"

Too late. The other line went dead just as Tyler prepared his carefully thought-out reason why he couldn't leave at that moment. _Oh, well. At least visiting a new place offers new experiences._

* * *

The café was hard to miss. In the dark blanket of the evening scene lay a bright and glittering café that gave off a warm orange glow. It was larger than Tyler had assumed; what he thought was a tiny shop turned out to be a restaurant with quite the extensive size. And by the entrance, as his friend had told him, stood a beautifully sculpted figure of a white angel dressed in long robes dotted with flowers. The face was so serene and peaceful, and its hands rested on its chest, giving the impression that the intangible heart within was filled with contentedness.

It was so goddamn _beautiful._

Waiting next to that statue was the all-too familiar figure of Desmond Tanner. His upward-ish blond hair stood out among the shaggy-haired public. He looked up from his gaze on the ground and grinned widely. "Hey, man. I haven't seen you in real life since... since..."

"Since the last year of highschool," Tyler finished. "You're looking great."

"I've got a rockin' bod, dude. Full six pack and everything."

"Why don't we take this conversation inside?"

Desmond nodded. "Yeah, alright. Let's go in."

* * *

If the outside of the restaurant was beautiful, then the interior was absolutely gorgeous. Paintings that hung on the walls were colored in warm pastel colors. More statues of white angels with folded wings marked the corners of the room, seemingly guarding the entire restaurant. Tyler had never seen anything classier or more expensive in his whole life, despite having lived in a mansion as a child.

"Café" was _definitely_ an understatement.

A waitress dressed in black-and-white approached the two young men. "Table for how many?"

"Two," the bassist and the drummer said at the same time. They both looked at each other with faces that clearly said "You stole _my _line!"

The waitress only smiled and nodded. "Please come this way."

She led them down the maze of seats and people, and stopped when she'd arrived at a small table with only two chairs. Once the college students had taken their seats, she gave them each a menu and left. Desmond scanned through the pages like a hungry wolf, while Tyler took his time to admire the decor. Then the waitress returned, with a notepad in hand, and asked them what they wanted to order.

"Just two iced coffees," said Desmond. That is, after all, why they had come there in the first place. Also it was because a college student didn't have much pocket money, so splurging on exotic food that only lasted one mealtime definitely wasn't worth it.

The waitress came back with two iced coffees, just like they had ordered, and left after greeting them with the standard "Enjoy your drinks." Although the coffee was heavily loaded with sugar and cream, which was contrary to his tastes, Tyler enjoyed his drink almost as much as Desmond did. They both sighed in satisfaction after finishing the beverages.

"Look at _that_, dude," the drummer said, pointing to a flat screen TV that hung on the wall. "More news. I think it's about the bombing."

It was difficult to listen in to what the news reporter was saying because of the chattering of the restaurant's customers, but they managed.

_"Police investigations cannot confirm that the explosion was caused by faulty batteries. On the same note, more bombings have occurred. Strangely enough, the explosions have destroyed only shops regarding technical paraphernalia. The oddly specific pattern of these bombings is still being investigated."_

The news was cut abruptly by a customer requesting that the channel be changed because "My kids are watching." The restaurant patrons breathed a sigh of relief when finally the news was changed to a movie channel.

"Jeez... Whoever or whatever's doing all those bombings must really hate technology," Desmond commented. "I guess now your laptop can't be fixed. I feel sorry for you, dude."

"I feel sorry for the families of those who died in the explosions," muttered Tyler.

"Aw, c'mon, man. You don't even know if anybody else died."

"It's safe to assume that."

"Well, yeah I guess, but-"

The blonde was cut off by a couple sitting in a table next to theirs. They talked loudly, way too loudly, for the other patrons' tastes. The boisterous chatter was white noise to Desmond and Tyler until they heard an interesting piece of information:

"Haven't you heard? The people investigating say that the bombings are because of this program kids have," the woman said in a gossipy tone.

"Oh yeah, totally," the man replied. "My nephew has that same program. I think it was a game called Nine Craff or something, I don't know. Kids these days have all sorts of gizmos and doohickeys to play with."

After hearing that, Desmond immediately tuned them out. "Stupid adults. Always gossiping about shit they don't even know about."

"I believe they meant Minecraft when they mentioned a game," replied Tyler.

"Well, yeah. No shit, Sherlock!"

"How could a child's game be tied into these catastrophes?" Tyler shook his head at the ridiculousness. "They are assuming things using what little information they have. It's a naive assumption."

"I don't really care, dude. I just don't want old geezers shittin' on my favorite game."

"That's completely understandable. Disregard what they said."

"Way ahead of you."

* * *

The night drew on as the two of them conversed about any and every topic imaginable - from friends to jobs, to sex and religion, and finally ended on the subject they had talked about hours ago.

"The new update is pretty cool," said Desmond as he played with the spoon and fork on the table. "I like playing on an Amplified world. It's like touching the sky. Speaking of sky, have you seen his new videos? The one he plays with Deadlox and Bashur? Y'know, Crazy Craft? I'd like to have that modpack someday."

Tyler was too tired and sleepy to listen to his friend's rambling. Every now and then he would say "yeah" or "that sounds great", and Desmond wouldn't even notice his lazy replies. After a few minutes of nonsensical chatter about Minecraft, a sudden "Oh shit!" from the drummer snapped Tyler out of his sleepy spell.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" The bespectacled teen was fumbling with his words.

"Remember how I said I'd be busy tomorrow?" said Desmond, his voice almost panicky. "Well, I just remembered that I need to prep for it, and it's like 10:30, so I _really _gotta go."

He spoke too fast for Tyler to understand.

Processing.

Processing.

Process complete. "Oh, is that so? Um, goodbye then. Thanks for tonight."

"Yeah, no prob, dude!" And in a rush, he left.

Tyler yawned and lingered in his seat. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the TV that was turned to a movie channel was now back to the news, probably because the patrons from earlier had left. Out of boredom and the fact that he didn't really want to leave his seat just yet, he listened to the news.

_"Further investigation reveals that traces of gunpowder have been found near the bomb sites. This has baffled the police due to gunpowder no longer being used in bombs. We will explore the matters further after we bring to you the sports news."_

_Gunpowder, huh?_ Tyler thought. It was indeed strange for it to be found in the devastation, considering the fact that tech shops don't even _have _gunpowder, let alone use it for anything. Sighing, he grabbed his bag and left the restaurant, the drowsiness now begging him to go home and sleep.

Mulling over the subject gave him questions and theories as to why things were how they were, but the more important subject at the moment was _sleep sleep sleep. _So Tyler disregarded his silly thoughts and went home.

They would be saved for another time.

**A/N: Well? Whaddaya guys think? Long enough for ya? My back is killing me from working on this chapter for too long! I hope it's worth it.  
Like I said, shit's starting to pick up. I plan to make this ride last.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I had to restart this chapter like, twice. Goddammit.**

**Credit to a guest review for the idea for this chapter's plot! I hope you know who you are :]**  
**To endershadow98: This will be regular Minecraft and not a Mob Talker story. Hope I cleared things up.**

* * *

Tyler was never a believer of the paranormal. He was a man of science, not false realities. He could not fathom why humans made silly stories about creatures that had yet to be proven real. Then again, science couldn't prove the stories wrong either, so the matter wasn't very often touched.

However, the night he'd gone home after his meet-up with Desmond, something strange and unexplainable happened. Something that defied all his beliefs and simply _could not _have been real.

_Was_ it real?

* * *

The room was completely dark; Tyler was surely old enough to sleep without a nightlight. It was quiet, so very quiet, the cold spring air still lingering around. He was under his soft blankets, covered head-to-toe in the fabric, just how he liked it. Little did he know that in the room, on his study desk, lay the laptop that would soon bring him a terrifying experience. It was turned off; at least, it was, not until the tiny LED light glittered, showing that it was now in use. The once odorless air was now replaced by an extremely foul stench akin to rotting flesh. Groans could be heard being emitted from the laptop, which was now dripping with a thick, black substance.

All the bizarre stimuli elicited a reaction from the sleeping teenager, who, after tossing and turning in uneasiness, roused and rubbed his eyes to adjust to the dark room. The first thing he noticed was the _smell._ Extremely pungent and vomit-inducing. He held back the bile in his throat and covered his mouth instead, to look for the source of the stench. Perhaps something had died in the middle of the night?

As Tyler stumbled in the darkness, his eyes watering from the repulsive smell, he noticed the laptop was on. _Yet another strange occurrence, _he thought. Just as he was about to take a closer look, his foot stepped on something _wet_ and _slimy. _This made him jump back and inspect whatever he stepped on. Bringing his fingers to the small puddle on the floor, he rubbed his thumb and index finger together, to observe the viscosity of the substance, only to discover it was thick, black _blood._

That was enough to make Tyler stumble to the floor in horror. One of his major fears was blood, and the very thought of it sent chills down his spine. But he _had _to get to his laptop, he _had _to! It was as if a mysterious force was drawing him closer and closer to the PC. When the teen regained his composure, he rose to his feet, albeit shakily, and plodded towards the laptop. Slowly he opened it, only to be greeted by nothing, much to his surprise. It was simply a black screen, like it was turned off, except it wasn't. The groans from earlier now echoed within the room, as if whatever made the sounds was now within his vicinity.

As Tyler sat on the computer chair and leaned in closer to observe his PC, two gnarly hands, with long nails and rotting flesh, reached out of the laptop screen to claw at its victim. He reacted too late; the fingers were now locked around his throat and he could not breathe. He found himself nearly passing out, from the foul stench and the lack of oxygen, and he felt his life force slipping away, little by little._  
_

_I can't survive this, _Tyler thought as his arms fell limp. _I can't. I can't. It's killing me. I'm_ _dying._

Then, darkness.

* * *

The warm sunlight shone through the blinds and on the sleeping body of a teenager. He stirred in his sleep, then finally opened his eyes to the yellow rays of the sun. He blinked, once, twice, numerous times. The teen felt disoriented and sleep-deprived, but because of what, exactly? What had he done last night? _Calm down, _he told himself. _Just try to remember. Let's see... I was out somewhere, with a friend... Desmond, was it? Yes, yes, and I arrived home late and went to bed... And... and..._

Memories of the horrors he'd experienced came flooding in his mind. Every single detail was painted so carefully, so realistically, that it would be absurd to call it a dream. _Blood. Decay. Strangling. Suffocating. Dying. Dying. _The experience was too horrifying, too traumatizing.

Tyler hopped from his bed and went straight to the laptop, where he knew he would find it on his study desk. There it was, but no trace of black blood or pungent odor remained, if they were there at all. Even the PC was turned off, just as Tyler had done that night. Out of fear he opened it and saw the same empty black monitor. No evidence of any sort of hands or arms being there were found. Much to his relief, it was all a dream.

"Just a silly nightmare," he muttered, and almost laughed at himself for believing it was real in the first place. All dreams and nightmares ended whenever someone woke up from it, dispelling the sleeping fantasy immediately once their eyes awoke to reality.

Tyler began his daily (and mundane) routine by going to the bathroom and washing his face. The cool water helped him feel more awake and ready for the day. But just as he wiped his clean face with a towel and combed his wispy black hair, he noticed something in his reflection, something he thought wasn't real.

Strangulation marks decorated his neck like red paint on a white canvas. They were recent marks, too; they would not be disappearing for a while. He ran a finger across one of it, the feeling sending chills down his spine, and sure enough, they were real.

"H-How?" the bassist asked no one in particular. _That can't be right. Last night was a dream. There isn't even evidence of... of whatever was trying to kill me. I must have scratched myself in my sleep. Yes, that sounds plausible._

Tyler wasn't going mad, was he? Yet the marks on his neck begged to differ. And they stood out like a sore thumb (sore neck?). He didn't have the necessary makeup to cover it with, however. Everybody would surely notice, and knowing people, they'd definitely ask about what happened, and his privacy would be ruined, which is why he chose a single dorm in the first place, to keep annoying college colleagues away-

Oh, shit. College. Tyler had almost forgot.

What was worse was that he slept in too late, and he couldn't even waste time to eat anymore. Eating wasn't a priority to him, anyway; cleanliness was. Which is why he decided to take a quick shower and get dressed. There was no way to cover up the strangulation marks without makeup, so the bassist settled for a simple scarf. If people asked, he'd just say he had a cold. That would surely drive them away, lest they got the sickness as well.

On his way to the college, he tried calling Desmond, but the other line did not pick up. Instead he called Craig. Luckily the vocalist picked up.

"Craig? I hope you're not too busy, but I need to confirm something. It's a somewhat upsetting matter, so I hope you don't mind."

_"Sure! Go on right ahead." _The sound of people chattering was heard in the background, but Tyler ignored it.

"See, last night, something strange happened to me."

_"Oh, don't tell me this is about a wet dream."_

"Wha-? No, of course not!" On the inside, though, the raven smiled at his friend's attempt to cheer him up. "Last night, I think I had a dream. I dreamt that something or someone was strangling me through my laptop screen."

Craig laughed. "_You said this was a dream, right?"_

"Well, see, that's the thing. I woke up today with marks on my neck."

It was silent on the other line. Finally the brunette spoke. _"Did any of the other students come to your dorm last night?"_

"Not that I know of."

_"Maybe somebody snuck into your room last night and choked you for whatever reason."_

'Why? What would they get out of that?"

_"Probably because you're what they call a 'nerd'."_ Shuffling sounds were heard on Craig's end of the call. _"Listen, man. I gotta go. If anyone's bothering you, don't hesitate to tell somebody about it. There could have only been one way you got those marks."_

Tyler nodded, even though his friend couldn't see it. "Yes, I know. Thank you for your time."

_"No prob, man. Stay safe."_

Just as they hung up, people already started staring at Tyler, like he was some sort of freak. _I'll just have to deal with them, _he thought as he entered the college building.

He was used to being stared at, anyway.

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter wasn't creepy or disgusting enough for your tastes. Trust me, I did my best.**

**Enjoy it nonetheless.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I've been getting a steady amount of views and reviews lately...  
****Could it be...? People actually _like _my story? :O  
****But seriously though, thank you guys so much for taking time out of your day to read :] It makes me more motivated to write for you knowing that I make you guys happy. I practically feed off of other people's reviews. **

**Also, do you have any tips on how to write longer chapters? I'm still struggling with it :T**

**On a side note: I'm somewhat running into this story blindly. I know how the middle part goes, but I have no idea how to get there or how to end it off after it. This explains why the story so far seems to be getting nowhere. And I apologize for that! Sincerely, sorry.**

* * *

Apart from being stared at by people during every class, Tyler had a rather normal college day. He arrived home, tired but glad that the day was over, and plopped down on his bed. Breathing slowly, he cherished the comforting silence of his empty room. He then took out his phone from his pocket and scanned through the text messages. There were only two; one was spam and the other was from Desmond. He smiled, and read the following:

_eyyo  
i'm doing this thing for my team and it's hella fun  
__won't be able to see you any time soon  
miss you bby xoxoxoxoxoxoxo  
__lol_

The last part was a joke, of course. Desmond always made "advances" towards Tyler, but all in good fun. He never meant it seriously.

Since for some reason there was no school the next day (nobody cared why; they were just happy to have a 1-day vacation) Tyler could relax, even for a while. He decided to go through his social networking accounts, which he didn't use very often, simply because catching up with people was too much work (except for Craig, of course). Finding nothing of interest, Tyler went through his blog, which he could still visit but not post to via phone. Numerous of his fans and fellow bloggers had been posting things about where he had gone and if he was caught in the recent bombings. It was sweet, knowing that they cared, but at the same time painful, because he couldn't reach beyond the pixels and tell them, "_No, I'm not dead. I'm just busy." _But alas, he could not.

As the teen scanned through more and more of the posts, a recurring topic was mentioned. Something about a Slenderman-like figure recently seen by Creepypasta fanatics. Pictures of it were attached to the posts talking about it, but they weren't really striking or peculiar. Most of them only had blurry photographs of what seemed to be a shadow lurking by some trees similar to the infamous Slender game. Tyler brushed it off as hoaxes. He wouldn't believe them until there was solid proof of it.

Sighing, he undressed himself and donned some black-and-white comfortable nightwear. Just as he was about to force himself to sleep, his phone rang, startling him.

"Hello?"

_"Hey, man. Mind if I rant to you a bit?"_

Ah, Craig. He was a little vain and inconsiderate of others at times, but at least he was a good enough guy to care about his friends. "...Alright."

_"Cool. So, like, after college today, when I got home, my laptop was missing. I don't even bring it to school anymore because of its battery life. Not only that, but I think somebody is legit stealing my stuff."_

"'Stuff' meaning...?"

_"Important stuff. Folders, documents, even a chair went messing. I think someone's fucking with me."_

"Perhaps it's a prank?"

_"Well, if it is, then it's not funny. Just today, Amy texted me that she found a _skeleton _in her dorm!" _Amy was Craig's girlfriend, and if anything happened to her, he would lose his shit. _"Why would these people mess around with us? My shampoo's gone, too. Guess I'll have to buy again."_

"I'm really sorry to hear that," replied Tyler in a tired tone. He yawned sleepily. "We'll just have to deal with it. Half my social life is gone because of my faulty laptop."

_"You mean your blog?" _inquired the vocalist. Tyler confirmed. _"Dang. Well, sorry for ranting so much. I just needed to get stuff off my chest."_

"No worries. Goodbye, then."

_"Bye-o."_

Tyler sighed heavily. Why were his and his friends' lives going downhill? Why were there so many strange occurrences and disastrous news reports? What had the world come to? Thinking about it only filled his head with nonsensical theories and conspiracies. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. He ended up with more questions than answers. Maybe the couple gossiping about Minecraft at Elan café wasn't so crazy after all.

No matter. Sleep was more inviting than his thoughts anyway.

* * *

_The dream was dark with an atmosphere similar to a fog. He stood amid the misty clouds and looked around. Nothing but fog in every direction. _

_All of a sudden, hands grabbed him from behind, gnarly hands that gripped onto his legs, arms, neck, anything they could reach. The teen, tried as he might, failed to resist the hands. They scratched his skin and tore his flesh; blood was starting to seep from the wounds. He could not even scream; it was as if his voice was lost. The fog turned a deep red color and a faint chorus of screams echoed in the distance. Sharp teeth gnawed on the struggling teen's arms and legs, chewing them down to the bone. It made resisting the assailants even more difficult, now that he was sure he couldn't move his limbs._

_The agony was great and even more amplified by the smell of rotting flesh in the air. He was sobbing violently now; the pain was simply unbearable. He could barely feel his limbs; perhaps they had already been chewed off. What made the experience strange is how he could not even see his attackers. Were they invisible? Or was it just that dark? _

_The more Tyler gasped for air, the more he tasted the blood mist on his tongue. More teeth locked around his throat, and blood gushed forth in torrents. He was losing oxygen quickly. His death would surely be quick, but not painless. What would it take for his suffering to end?_

_The life in his eyes faded slowly. This was it. This was his end._

* * *

Tyler jolted awake, gasping for air like he'd just drowned. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, wore them, and looked around the room. It was yet another bright and sunny morning. No sign of anything weird so far. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad that it was just a nightmare. A bad way to start a morning, but whatever.

_Oh, right! _Tyler had almost forgot that there was no school that day! He would surely not let a bad dream ruin his wonderful day. Smiling, he pulled the covers off him and swung his legs to the side of the bed. But he noticed something when he glanced down at the bed sheets. What he saw shocked him.

Fresh black blood. Everywhere.

**A/N: *drops plot/cliffhanger bomb**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: 500+ views? That's... quite a lot, actually. But thank you guys nonetheless :'D  
And good news! I'm not running into this blindly anymore! I finally got the entire plot down with all the key details and whatnot, and believe me, it's gonna be one hell of a ride. Prepare yourself :]**

* * *

The teenager gave a yelp and jumped out of bed, eyes focused on the disgusting pool of black blood he'd just been laying on. How had he not noticed it? He checked his pajamas to see if they, too, were stained - and they were. The odor was rancid; simply smelling it made him feel woozy. What he needed most at the moment was a major clean-up. Thank God he didn't have to go to college that day.

Tyler began the much-needed cleaning with the bed sheets. He stripped them off the mattress (it wasn't stained, thankfully) and tossed them into a pile on the floor. Just _how _would he get them washed without people accusing him of a murder?

A thought struck him - he could use the tub in his bathroom! Tyler was just lucky enough that his school was extremely rich, so each dorm had its own bathroom; his privacy wouldn't be ruined. With some effort, he heaved the revolting pile of bloody sheets to the tub and let the faucet run hot water. _That should do it, _he thought to himself. _I'll let it soak for a while. _Just then he remembered about his stained pajamas, so he hurriedly dressed down and tossed them into the tub, of which the water now had a dirty reddish-brown tint to it.

After wearing another set of clothes, Tyler strolled to the small kitchen where he decided he would have a decent breakfast. But living 17 years as a pampered child in a mansion where everybody did the cooking for you molded him into a dependent and somewhat needy college student. He didn't know how to cook anything; most of the things he ate were usually to-go meals from shops. What food did he have in the pantry, anyway? As he went through the cupboards, he found a newly-bought loaf of bread with a note attached to it, saying-

_To Ty,  
_

_Figured you'd need to eat someday. There's butter in the fridge, too - go ahead and check.  
__Eat well :]_

_-Jake_

"Jake Springer," muttered Tyler as he folded the note neatly. Jake Springer, an African-American with the same enthusiastic personality as Craig, had a dorm right next to Tyler's. He was a math and science genius, but his true passion was in music. Not loud music, luckily. Mostly jazz and blues. How he got into Tyler's dorm was a mystery.

Nonetheless the bassist was thankful for the free food. It took no genius to guess that Jake wanted him to eat toast, the simplest form of a proper breakfast. The note was very thoughtful of his friend, so Tyler decided to pin it on the fridge, just in case he forgot to eat.

Now came the real challenge. How was one to make toast?

It began with bread, that much he knew. He opened the bag of bread and took a slice out. _Now what?_

"I believe..." He took a glance around the kitchen and found a toaster. "That is what comes next."

He walked towards the appliance and stared at it for a few seconds before admitting, "I don't know how that works." Then he remembered Jake's note; maybe it had instructions of some sort? Was he aware of how independently inept Tyler was? The bassist checked the fridge, where the note was pinned on, and sure enough, there were instructions.

_How to Make Toast - I knew you'd check this note C:_

_1. Place slice of bread inside the toaster  
2. Push the timer down  
3. Await the toasty goodness  
4. Profit!  
Bonus: Add butter. I spent good money on that!_

"Jake, you devil," said Tyler, smiling. He did as the instructions said, placing just one slice of bread inside the toaster and pushing the timer down. All he had to do now was wait, right?

There was some time to kill, so he went to the bathroom to check on the bloody sheets. Inside, the air was humid and heavy with the scent of iron. Tyler coughed and waved the mist off as he trudged towards the tub. The hot water, once clear, was now a disgusting shade of brown, with red hues here and there. He bent down and stuck his arm in the water to pull the drain plug out. It took a while, but the murky water finally drained away. He refilled the tub with hot water to soak the sheets a second time. _Such a dirty job, _he thought to himself. _I'm surprised I can still tolerate the sight of it._

A sharp _ding _rang in the kitchen. The toast was done!

* * *

After he'd finished his last bite of buttered toast, Tyler sighed contentedly and decided to check his social networking accounts. Nothing interesting as usual, except the posts of a supposed "Slenderman" on his blog grew more and more in number. His fans and fellow bloggers were begging him to do research on the creature and figure out whether or not it was real. Seeing as there was nothing else better to do, he went through the more striking pictures of the unconfirmed entity, observing little details here and there. Once the teen had his fill of the photos, he sat in solemn silence, pondering on the matter of a creature similar to Slenderman. Why were people so interested in such a topic anyway? It didn't even look like Slenderman! Sure, it was lanky and black, but it seemed to lack tentacles and the ability to distort electric devices.

Then, he noticed it. In one of the photographs, the one people seemed to favor the most, showed the creature with eyes that glowed a faint shade of purple.

_Purple? What an unusual choice of color. _Oddly enough, it was the only picture that had such a strange detail. Of all things, why purple eyes? _Just the work of Photoshop,_ he thought to himself._ Nothing can prove its existence as of yet._

Tyler was now left with nothing to do (except maybe hand-wash his sheets) so, feeling a little lonely, he decided to send a text to Desmond, just to see how he was doing. His text said-

_Just wanted to say hi. How are things where you are?_

He didn't actually expect a reply, but he got one.

_oh hai  
__my team is, y'know, playin games and shit  
__it's a bunch of tourney biz, yo  
__and we're winning!_

Tyler felt happy for his friend's victory.

_Congratulations! When are you coming back?_

_soon maybe  
i dunno_

_Is that so? Well, we should meet up again. I have to catch up with you._

_ok bby  
i have a bunch of stories to tell too  
now i gtg  
see ya_

_Goodbye, then. Congrats again._

The bassist sighed and sat in comfortable silence before his gaze fell on his laptop. Feelings of frustration and disappointment welled up inside, further fueling his hatred towards the PC. Ever since the damned thing started having battery problems, his life had been a total mess. Nightmares, disasters in the city, even the still-visible strangulation marks on his neck were all because of the laptop. He wanted so badly to toss it out the window, to finally have it out of his life, but that would be a waste of money. He got the feeling that if he got rid of the laptop, it would erase his problems. But where was the logic to that? Why would a portable computer, of all things, be the root of his problems?

Now Tyler felt embarrassed for arriving at such a silly conclusion. It just didn't make sense. But he needed something to blame for his problems, something to vent his anger out on. The laptop just so happened to be that outlet.

As he thought more and more about the subject, there was a rapping at his door. Who in the world would visit him, especially in the morning? He stood up, worn out by his thoughts, and headed for the door. When he opened it, he saw the face of the friend who was kind enough to give him free food.

"Jake?" said Tyler. "What... brings you here?"

The other male looked tired and disheveled, as if something had come and whipped his hair and clothes in a mess. "Hey man, can I use your bathroom?"

"E-Excuse me?"

"Your bathroom. Can I use it? Or may I use it? Whatever floats your boat." Jake wobbled in his stance, then steadied himself using the door frame. "I was out last night, drinking and shit, and I accidentally locked myself out of my dorm, and I'm real hungover and _please can I use your bathroom?_"

In return for his kindness for buying him food, Tyler nodded quickly and let him inside. Jake smiled gratefully and made a beeline for the bathroom. Closing the door, the bassist sat on his bed and waited patiently for his friend to be done with... whatever business he may or may not have with the toilet. Suddenly a loud cry rang out from the bathroom, and Tyler immediately jumped to his feet. "What? What's wrong?"

Then he remembered.

The blood-stained sheets.

"Oh, shit."

**A/N: Oh, Ty. Why are you so awkward with everyday things?  
****Also tell me what you guys think I should improve on. Actually, tell me everything you love/hate about this story in your reviews. I love when people express their thoughts and opinions.**

**Reviews of all sorts are appreciated!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Credit to BlazetheDragonite for giving me the idea for this chapter!**

* * *

It took a lot of explaining, but Tyler finally managed to convince Jake that he did not murder anybody, and that he wasn't secretly a girl on her (his?) period. He now sat on the chair by his study desk while his friend took a reclining position on the bed.

"That's messed up, man," said Jake, shaking his head. "Ain't no way that shit's real. Somebody must be pranking you or something, I don't know. This is college, after all."

"I don't think so," replied the bassist. "A lot of strange things have been happening lately. The bombings, the blood, the theories of a 'second Slenderman'..."

"Second Slenderman?"

"Here." Tyler showed him the picture of the tall black creature with glowing purple eyes. "Isn't it strange?"

Jake kept a straight face. "...You aren't making a racist joke, are you?"

"Wha-? Of course not! There is _no_ way I was implying that this was you."

"I was just bustin' your balls, dude." Jake laughed. "Anyway, that picture is hella creepy, so I'd like to stay away from it, thank you."

Tyler took the phone away and tucked it in his pocket. "But it's just so... odd. Everything seems to be happening at the same time. There must be a reason for it."

"And what reason would that be?"

Thus the bespectacled teen was silenced.

"Eh, whatever," grumbled Jake. "My momma always told me that I should follow philosophy as a course, since I was always good at it, but my dad was the one who encouraged me to make music instead. My momma was so confused, but I don't regret choosing music."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Tyler, obviously confused by the sudden mention of his friend's family.

"What I'm tryna say is, just because you were taught to give reason to things, doesn't mean you should." Jake sat up and hugged his legs. "God made everything the way it's supposed to be. Shouldn't that be reason enough?"

Tyler was about to counter his argument about God, but decided not to. He didn't need a religion war to break out between him and his devout Christian friend. "Why did you choose music over philosophy and science?"

The statement brought a smile to Jake's face. "See? That's what I mean. You're tryna find a reason for my choices."

The bassist returned the grin. "I think you would have been better off in philosophy by the way you're giving me these fantastical ideas."

"Just like my momma said." The other male stretched his arms and got off the bed. "Do you have something I could drink? My throat's killing me."

"In the kitchen, in one of the cupboards, you'll find some glasses. There's a pitcher of water in the refrigerator, and- oh, don't touch the Sprite!" One of Tyler's guilty pleasures was drinking Sprite whenever he felt like reminiscing on old memories. The lemon-lime flavor of the soda brought back memories of high school, when he, Desmond, Craig, and another friend named Nate, would have breaks during band practice and rest up with a couple of cold drinks.

_College tore the band apart, _thought Tyler. _At least I can still contact Desmond and Craig. Nate, however... it's not easy catching up with someone abroad._

"Hey, Tyler?" Jake hollered from the kitchen. "Since when did you keep chemistry flasks in your kitchen?"

_Flasks?_

'W-what?"

"C'mere, dude. You have like two or three of 'em in your cupboard. What are you, some sort of mad scientist?"

Tyler made his way to the kitchen, where his friend was holding one of the three flasks in his hands. "Did you say _flasks?_"

"Yeah, check 'em out." Jake handed one glass container to Tyler, and they both inspected them in curiosity. "Where'd you get them?"

"I... didn't."

"What?"

"I didn't get these," mumbled the bassist. "I never got them. Never in my life have I ever owned flasks."

Jake frowned and set the glass container on the table, eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "Weird. Do you still have a cup though?"

"Weren't there cups when you found these?"

The other male shrugged. "Nothin'. Just those flasks."

_Something is definitely wrong, _thought Tyler. _I can feel it._

"Well, then, I suppose you can't get a drink."

Upon hearing that, Jake pouted like a puppy. "Can't I like, drink straight from the pitcher or something-"

Tyler grimaced at the thought of having another person's germs on his belongings. "N-No, please don't."

"Not even with my hands?"

"Your _hands?_"

"I don't know, man. I'm just so damn thirsty."

Using hands to drink water was quite the thought. So much that it amused Tyler.

"Alright, cup your hands tightly. Let no cracks open, or the water will seep through." He went to the fridge and fetched the cold pitcher of water for his dehydrated friend. As he carefully poured the water, Jake was visibly shivering from the chilly temperature. When the hands were full, the other male lifted them to his mouth and drank greedily.

He was smiling the second he was done. "Mind if I have some more?"

* * *

Jake left the dorm after Tyler had given him his fill of water. With the flasks put away and the soaked sheets hanging out to dry in the bathroom, Tyler had nothing else to clean. It was nearing dusk when he decided he should make a list of the strange or bizarre occurrences that have happened to him and others so far. It was so he could keep track of things. He then took a sheet of paper and a sharp pencil, and began writing.

_*Laptop won't charge_  
_-Keeps turning itself on_  
_-Left Minecraft open_  
_-Hands came out of the screen to strangle me_

_*Strange dream about being eaten alive by foul-smelling assailants_  
_-Woke up to a pool of black blood on my bed_

_*Found flasks instead of glass cups_

_*Bombings only affecting tech shops_  
_-Traces of gunpowder found at the crime scenes_

_*Sightings of a tall, black creature with glowing purple eyes_

_*Craig's belongings are missing_

_*Amy found a skeleton in her dorm_

The list was longer than Tyler had assumed; he was almost out of space on the paper he was writing on. Now would be the time to listen to relaxing music, since for a day of vacation, it stressed him out somewhat. He needed some downtime.

Tyler's idea of downtime was to have the lights off, with relaxing music playing in the background. Unfortunately for him, because of college duties, he hadn't found time to relax. Now the conditions were perfect. Dusk was approaching, and he was sure nobody would disturb him. It was a better time than any.

First on the list: to look for his speakers. The bassist kept them safely in a drawer... somewhere. He just couldn't remember where. Perhaps it was in his closet - and sure enough, it was.

Sort of.

What he found instead was a box-like device that was about the size of a large radio. There was a wide slit on its top surface; maybe you had to place a CD inside? Tyler was completely dumbfounded. Never in his life did he ever buy something like it. What's worse, he couldn't find his speakers.

So, feeling a little disappointed and confused at the same time, he resolved to at least turning the lights off. The switch was located by the door; it was the switch for the largest light in the entire room. Tyler strolled to the entrance, and was further at a loss when the switch he'd been using his entire life was not there; instead replaced by a wooden stick connected to a metal base. It looked similar to a switch, however it was anything but.

Tyler knew that this specific incident was _definitely _going on the list. Both his speakers and his light switch were replaced by two similar-looking objects-

A jukebox and a lever.

Just _what _the hell was going on?

**A/N: Shit's seepin' through the pixels, baby.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: 800+ views.  
Wow.  
*fangirls on the inside**

**Credit to Dave90000 for giving me the idea for this chapter! I feel like such an idea thief :[**

* * *

He couldn't relax.

He wished he could, but he couldn't.

As the exasperated teen sat on the side of his bed, with his fingers entwined and his head hung low, he mulled over the entire month's past events. What could it all possibly mean? Why was this happening to him? Why him?

_Why me, Tyler Vex?_

Then he realized he was _literally_ _vexed _about the situation.

Hah. Funny.

As he didn't want to be without reason, the bassist stuck to one theory: that maybe someone was just fucking with him. But deep down, he knew it was something more than that. The recurring pattern of events _meant _something; at least, they did to him. But what if...

No. It couldn't be.

Minecraft wouldn't be tied into the crazy mess of bizarre incidents.

Would it?

He buried his face into his hands, trying to stifle a sob. He felt like crying. He just wanted, more than anything, to stop the madness that was causing havoc in his life. What would it take to end it all? If he prayed to God enough, would He help him in his time of need?

"Goddammit..." Tyler whispered to himself. He could feel his lower lip quivering; perhaps he was going to cry after all. But he refused to do so, because he knew for a fact crying wouldn't help anything. He wasn't a crybaby, he was a man! And men look their problems straight in the eye, not run from them! Nodding his head with new resolve, he wiped the tears that threatened to form, and decided on a course of action.

Okay, so most of his important belongings were now otherwordly objects. The solution?

Buy more things!

_But that would hurt my wallet, _thought the teen. _I don't think my mother or father would lend me money just to buy things I_ should_ have taken care of._

Well, then, he would simply have to deal with it. But the idea of drinking water from a potentially contaminated flask and having to flip a heavy wooden lever just to turn his lights on was simply too much. Living like that was unbearable, unacceptable! Which is why he was left with the choice to find more ridiculous solutions to his even more ridiculous problems. As he mulled it over, a loud banging on the door interrupted his thoughts, as if whoever was outside didn't want to be outside.

"Tyler! You there?! Oh man, oh jeez, please let me in!"

_Jake again? _Now why would he be back so soon? Whatever the reason, Tyler was not one to turn down a visit from a friend, so he casually strode over to the door. It swung open the second he turned the doorknob, making him almost fall flat on his ass. In came a very terrified-looking Jake, who appeared as if he'd seen a ghost.

"What are you doing here?" asked Tyler.

"It was _huge, _man!"

"What-"

"And its eyes, all of 'em, they were glowin' red and staring at me and-"

"Eyes? What eyes-"

"And its gigantic jaws! The size of hands, I tell you!"

"Jake!" Tyler sharply called out. "_Calm down _and tell me what happened."

The other male trembled, his eyes shifting from left to right. He was probably afraid something would jump out at him. "A spider."

"A_ spider_?"

"Motherfucka was about to pounce on me!" cried Jake. He seemed genuinely terrified. "I got away, thank God I did, but it's still in there, man."

Tyler was trying to make sense of the situation. "So you went through the trouble of coming to my dorm _just _because of a measly spider?"

"You don't understand, man," Jake whispered, his voice cracking from having breathed too heavily. "If you were there, you'd understand how I'm feelin'!"

"Well, let's see it, then."

"W-What?"

"Let's see the spider."

"No way, nu-uh, never! That thing's gonna kill you!" He paced around back and forth, trying to calm himself down. "Unless you got like a gallon of bug spray, we can go kill it. If we're lucky."

The bassist simply went to his bathroom and came out with a can of insecticide, which was barely the amount Jake had asked for. "Will this do?"

His friend just shrugged. "Hopefully."

* * *

The two young men waited in the hallway by Jake's door. Night had already approached, making the situation seem more eerie than it should have. Jake was hiding behind Tyler, for fear that "it might try to eat my face off." And Tyler, having dealt with numerous pest problems in the past, held the can of pesticide in his hand and the doorknob on the other. "It's just a spider, Jake. What could possibly go wrong-"

Lo and behold, on the other side of the door was an enormous arachnid with a hairy black body and eight red eyes that glistened in the faint moonlight. Jake was most definitely _not _exaggerating; its mandibles, dripping with bright green venom, were moving in a way that suggested it was ready to eat. Ready to eat human flesh, that is. All eight of its grotesque legs stuck out awkwardly and were positioned in an assumed fighting stance. Hissing sounds were emitted from the creature's disgusting mouth, hisses similar to a snake attempting to hold back its own venom from spilling.

Tyler was rendered speechless. He was not arachnophobic, but the beast inside the dimly-lit room was enough to make him reconsider. He immediately slammed the door shut and turned to Jake, whose face clearly said "Told you so!"

"What in the world was _that?!_" Tyler half-yelled.

"See? It's crazy huge!" Jake looked even more horrified than his friend. "I don't even know how it got in there!"

Just as Tyler was on the verge of screaming about how unholy the arachnid was, an even more terrifying thought struck him. His eyes looked frantic and beads of sweat rolled down his neck. The can of bug spray slipped from his grasp, but he hardly noticed. Jake waved a hand in front of the petrified bassist, trying to elicit a reaction from him, but to no avail. "Ty? Dude? Uh, you alright?"

_No._

"Hey man, this ain't really the place to be, what with the spider and all..."

_It can't be._

_It can't be._

_Rotten flesh, tall black creatures, skeletons, bombings, a giant spider..._

"C'mon, dude. Let's scram." Jake grabbed his friend's wrist and tried to pull him away from the door, but Tyler didn't move a muscle.

_Glass bottles, a jukebox, a lever..._

"Dude?"

_And the laptop..._

Tyler dropped to his knees and stared off into the distance with wild, frantic eyes. His breathing was quick and uneven, almost like he was hyperventilating, and his whole body trembled at the same pace. This scared Jake even more than the gigantic spider waiting for a meal in his dorm. "Hey, what's with you? Got jelly knees or something?"

Tyler knew it. He _fucking _knew it all along. It wasn't somebody pulling pranks on him, no. How stupid he felt for assuming such a naive justification! The problem was far more serious than he could have ever imagined. He refused to believe it at first, which is why he tucked such suspicions away at the back of his mind, but at that moment, when time seemed to have stopped, his worst fears were realized. And for once, he hated being right about something.

"_This is Minecraft_," he whispered into the silence.

**A/N: We've all been waiting for you to realize that, Ty.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: 1,000+ views! Thank you all so much for this achievement :'D**

**And I apologize for the long wait. I just couldn't write for some reason (writer's block maybe?) and it just didn't feel fun to me for a bit, so sorry if this chapter isn't all that great. Also I'm tired and lazy and _jeez I really need to motivate myself more._**

**Here's a somewhat longer chapter to make up for my absence.**

* * *

Tyler's first instinct was to scream.

But alas, he could not find a voice to utilize.

Kneeling down next to his terrified friend, Jake snapped his fingers in front of Tyler to try and get him to at least _blink._ The bassist, a statue portraying the very emotion of fear, remained still and unblinking.

"Hey man, if you ain't getting up on your own, I'll hafta carry you myself." Jake stood up and extended a helping hand, waiting for Tyler to take it and help himself up. But the latter did nothing.

"Alright, then. C'mere. Ol' Jakey's gonna carry you."

But before the taller male could even get his hands on his friend, Tyler rose to his feet and composed himself, dry eyes adjusting to the environment he seemed blind to earlier. He said nothing; he simply sighed and headed straight for his dorm, which was not too far from Jake's.

And Jake was... confused, to say the least. What had caused Tyler to be paralyzed for two minutes? Was it something he did? Or did the presence of a _gigantic fucking_ _spider_ deter him?

...Probably the second choice.

Jake blinked a few times before rubbing his head in confusion. He checked his watch and saw that night had dragged on too long.

Suddenly his face sank. "Oh, shit, where am I gonna sleep?"

* * *

The bed sheets that had been cleansed of its blood were now hastily shoved inside a cabinet under the sink. He didn't want to see it, or smell it, or touch it, or have anything to do with it anymore. He was just so sick of it. Sick of his stupidity, his ignorant assumption that everything was normal, when in fact nothing ever _was_ normal. He was blinded by false hope, only to be smacked cold and hard by the truth. The smack embedded itself in his mind, forever painful.

Tyler tossed himself onto his bed, which was now the classic red bed in Minecraft. But it didn't even matter anymore. What else mattered? Was the same thing happening to Desmond and Craig?

...Shit. _Was it?_

He took his phone out and first dialed Desmond's number, since it was on his 'most used' list. He waited and waited for the other line to pick up.

It didn't.

Groaning in exasperation, he tried to call Craig next. Hopefully he'd pick up.

Aaaand he didn't.

_Great. Just great. _The tired bassist shook his head to clear his thoughts. _What now? What do I do?_

The sweet tendrils of sleep tugged on his body, begging to be noticed, but he ignored them. The tendrils, upset that they did not receive their desired reaction, pulled and yanked on his mind, of which was clouded by rushing thoughts and frustrated emotions. As Tyler struggled to keep his eyes open, open and so very afraid of what might happen if he closed them, a wave of drowsiness crashed over him like a deluge. His head, weighted with the drug of sleep, hit the plush pillow with suddenness. Closing his eyes ever so slowly, the teen curled up into a comfortable position on the bright red bed, and finally drifted off into dreamland.

* * *

Tyler had never seen a landscape so white and bleak and devoid of any color. He couldn't even tell where the floor or ceiling was. It was just pure nothingness. But there, in the distance, he could see a distorted grey figure, as if it were the color of static.

_"Come," _whispered a low, gruff voice.

Despite the strangeness of it all, Tyler spoke. "Come... where?"

_"Come," _it repeated.

Tyler frowned and crossed his arms in suspicion. "I would very much appreciate it if you told me where to go-"

_"Sheep. A flock of cancerous sheep, so arrogant and yet so dim-witted. You, lamb, may be an exception."_

"'Exception'? To what? What are you talking about?" He was starting to lose his cool (and maybe even his sanity). "And sheep? What sheep?"

The voice, which was emitted from the eerie grey figure, seemed to ignore all of Tyler's questions. _"Stray from the herd. The white is but a canvas of wool, stained with hatred and foolishness." _With that said, the static-y form sank into the ground, leaving no trace of it ever being there.

Tyler, his arms akimbo and his brows furrowed, was struck dumbfounded by the strange human-like entity. _I wonder..._

* * *

He never thought he would hate the sound of his alarm so much.

Tyler jolted awake from the blaring of the clock on his desk and gasped for air, like he'd just had a nightmare. His eyes darted around the room in panic, and his palms were sweaty from the abruptness of his awakening. It was a dream, right? The world slowly transforming into Minecraft... it wasn't real, was it? Glancing down, he expected to see the lack of sheets on the bed, just how he'd left them yesterday afternoon...

...Only to discover that the bed cover was the same bright red as the one in the game.

"Fuck," he swore under his breath. This couldn't be happening, could it? Much to his dismay, there was still college to deal with, so with stiff movements, he got off the bed and went to prepare for school.

* * *

The second Tyler arrived back at his dorm, he received a call. He closed the door behind him as he answered his phone.

"Hello?"

_"Hey-o!"_ Ah, the singsong voice of Craig Jackson._ "Sorry we couldn't return your calls; we were just busy preparing somethin' for ya!"_

"'We'?"

_"Yeah, y'know - Desmond and I! Listen, if you're not too busy, mind swinging by Desmond's house tonight?"_

"Craig, it's 6:45pm. Sleep is vital to me."

_"Aw, c'mon! We've got a surprise for you!" _The vocalist sounded like he was pouting. _"Please? Pretty please?"_

After a short debate with himself, Tyler agreed, much to his friend's excitement.

_"Yeah! Didja hear that, dude? Ty's coming!" _Sounds of fistbumping were heard. _"Alright, well, how's about I come and pick you up? Walking will surely take up too much time."_

"Sure."

Craig whooped and spoke with eagerness, _"Awesome! Bring your bass, okay? I'll be there in 20."_

This made Tyler smile.

* * *

The ride to Desmond's house was surprisingly uneventful, with nothing too interesting or explosive happening. Craig parked his car by the driveway just as the moon had fully shown itself in the night sky. Tiny stars twinkled in the blanket of blue, catching Tyler's attention, of which was stolen _so rudely _by Desmond's booming voice. "Let's do this!"

The three young men headed down to the basement, where Desmond had kept his "precious and especially fan-_fucking_-tastic" drum set. Switching the lights on, the illumination brought life to the dank room, which was once dull and devoid of any music. Now the band had arrived to fill its cement lungs with sweet melodies and fun times.

"This is the surprise!" exclaimed Craig. "Jammin' time!"

"Boy, Nate would have loved to play with us," said Desmond as he played with his drumsticks. "I miss the little guy already."

"Indeed," replied Tyler as he took his beloved bass out of its case.

"Well, at least I can still function as a guitarist," said Craig, running a hand through his curly brown hair. "It'll be like he never left."

Long into the night did the band play. The clock hit exactly 9pm when they finished performing their last song. Tired but satisfied, the three males decided that they should _probably _return to their dorms.

'Probably' turned into 'really'.

The drive home was slow, unsurprisingly. Each of them was tired from jamming way too hard than they should have, and they were just glad that they could still squeeze in a couple of hours of sleep before the next dreadful day of college. They had only a single emotion plastered on their faces: Craig was happy, Desmond was exhausted, and Tyler was sleepy. In fact, he was asleep the entire ride.

The car took a turn to an area in the neighborhood known to be dangerous at night. The route back home didn't include going through there, so why wasn't Craig following the usual path like he was supposed to?

And Desmond, half-asleep, noticed the wrong turn, so he spoke up with a hoarse voice. "Dude... what?"

But his friend said nothing, instead he drove on like he hadn't heard a thing. Little did Desmond know that Craig, too, was nodding off to sleep himself, so half the time he was aware of where he was driving, and half the time, well...

The road met an intersection, which was the last stretch of the bad neighborhood before reaching the safety of the urban district. Cars zoomed left and right, forward and back; with tired eyes, it was difficult to tell which direction any of them were going. Craig's car was going at a rather fast pace, almost as fast as the vehicles rushing at the intersection. The traffic light blinked red, signalling for the cars on Craig's lane to halt, but he made no sign of slowing down. They were nearing the crossroads now, and yet the vocalist did nothing to stop the car. Was he _asleep?_

It was as if time itself slowed down. They were mere meters away from touching the boundary of the intersection, and _why the hell wasn't Craig doing anything? Goddammit, Craig!_

Closer. Closer. A lone figure attempting to cross the road suddenly stopped in their tracks and locked their eyes on the car that was about to hit them. They had no emotion on their face, if they had one. It was too late now, the car was inches from the still form, centimeters even-

But the car _phased through _the figure it was supposed to hit. There was no time to worry about that, however - Craig was still snoozing mindlessly while the vehicle he should have been driving was now about to crash with a truck rushing towards them from the left road. And just as they were about to collide with it, the car screeched to a halt, jolting everybody awake from their undisturbed slumber.

Just in time, too - they were _literally a foot _away from the enormous vehicle. Now _that _was a close call.

"Dude! What the hell?!" yelled Desmond, clearly fuming at his rude awakening and near-death experience. Luckily he and the others chose to wear a seat belt; otherwise they would have suffered from whiplash.

Tyler was rendered speechless. His eyes looked scared and his mouth was agape. _Too close, too close._

"I don't... I didn't..." Craig, on the other hand, looked like he was about to bawl his eyes out. He glanced down at his feet - one was on the gas pedal and the other was... "Not on the brake...?"

So _what _stopped them?

As they sat there, startled and processing what had just happened, the mysterious figure from earlier seemingly teleported to Tyler's side of the car and stared him down with blank eyes.

_"Lamb," _said the figure, _"You are of no use to us if you are dead."_

Tyler was scared shitless enough from the close encounter with death, and now some stranger who may or may not be a ghost comes up to him and tells him weird bullshit because _what? _

Why not, right?

Oddly enough, Desmond and Craig took no notice of the looming figure clearly staring their friend down through the window. Attempting to discern the true appearance of the dark figure, Tyler squinted his eyes and asked in a shaky voice, "Who are you?"

_"Come," _it replied with a familiar gruffness. _"Sleep well, little lamb." _And it walked away casually, leaving the bassist perplexed beyond words.

"Ty, hey Ty, you alright man?" asked Desmond, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you injured anywhere?"

Tyler shook his head and took in deep breaths, attempting to calm himself down. "I'm... alright. Just... just take me home."

Craig's eyes were welling up with tears at that point. The car was still stuck at the red light, thank goodness. "I'm so sorry I fell asleep! Seriously, I mean, if there's anything I could do to make it up to you guys-"

"S'alright man," replied Desmond stiffly. He was obviously not pleased with his friend's thoughtlessness about the whole driving thing. "Let's just go home and get some proper sleep, yeah?"

So they drove home without another word to each other.

**A/N: I am hella tired, guys. I apologize if there are any errors or grammatical mistakes because I'm rushing to get this chapter out. My schedule is slowly becoming busier, so updating everyday will probably not happen.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I couldn't update because... well, actually, I have no excuses. I just lazed around and I lacked motivation these past few days, so sorry. Really.**

**Also I thought of something: Updates may come once a week or every other week (because of my busy schedule, like I mentioned before) but since that's happening, I'll just bump the word count to 2,000+. Sound good?**

**You: NOPE**

**...Well.**

**Sorry if this chapter is super short. A rushed writer leads to rushed writing.**

* * *

"Can't you just tell me who you are?"

Yet again Tyler was in his dreamscape, where he stood amidst the familiar white world that seemed dark to him. He had his arms crossed in irritation, owing to the fact that the grey figure ignored all of his questions and spoke like a man obsessed with sheep. Talking to him was like going around in circles; you ended up with the same amount of information as when you started.

_"Life is a fleeting thing," _it said in a low, quiet voice. _"Humans can try to give their life a purpose, but in the end, they are all the same. Who is to say they are more powerful than the lowly maggot, who in turn will feast on their corpses?"_

"I know not what you speak of," replied Tyler, "but I would appreciate it if you, for once, _answered my goddamn question._" His tone was stern and demanding, but it did no good, as the entity in the distance still would not comply.

_"Your friend, lamb, be wary. He who refuses me refuses God."_

That caught his attention. "My friend?"

_"...No matter. Such is His will." _Like a broken light, the figure flickered in and out as dead static, a buzzing white noise echoing all throughout the landscape. The high frequencies irritated Tyler's ears, to the point that they induced a heavy migraine. Head pounding and eyes shut tight, he crumpled to the ground in pain and covered his ears with his hands, as if trying to crush his skull. In just a few seconds, he dropped to the floor, body completely numb and lifeless.

He was as good as dead.

* * *

Tyler jolted awake from his nightmare, his eyes frantically skimming over the half-real world, half-Minecraft room. _Did I just... die? _It was strange that he had the same dream as the night before, but having no logical conclusion to it, he blamed it on the trippy world he now unfortunately lived in. Luckily it was the weekend, so the cycle of mundane routines halted to a pause, until Monday rolled in, of course.

Grabbing his glasses from the desk, Tyler yawned and stretched his sore limbs, as his body was not used to the uncomfortable firmness of the Minecraft bed. It didn't take many things for the bassist to wake up fully and adjust to his morning. A simple mug of his favorite black coffee usually did the trick. As he went through the tedious task of preparing the steamy beverage, he received a text. Checking his phone as he sat down, it said:

_Bad night last night.  
And not because I almost got us killed (that counts though), but because some dude tried to mug me  
Talk about bad luck :/_

Craig absolutely loved to talk about himself. That included ranting.

_What happened? Are you alright?_

_Yeah. I'm fine. I got scratched though, pretty badly too haha_

_Who attacked you?_

_Some dude in black  
__Listen man, it's nothing compared to me almost killing you_

_Nevermind that.  
You said it was someone in black?_

_Yeah  
Or maybe he was yknow  
African-american  
Anyway  
All I did was look at him  
And he freakin lashed out at me! :[_

Tyler swallowed the last of his coffee and gripped onto his mug like his life depended on it. _Great, an Enderman. _How the hell was he supposed to tell his friend that what he saw last night wasn't a person at all, and was in fact a monster from a game? Sneak it into a casual conversation?

...He may as well try.

But texting wouldn't be right, oh no. He had to call Craig. A serious matter such as that couldn't simply be explained through mere messages. It didn't take long for the other line to pick up.

_"Hello?"_

"Hello, Craig? I have some unfortunate news for you."

_"What is it? Did something happen?"_

Tyler gulped and hesitated. "You were, ah, attacked by a being not from this world."

_"What? Dude, you tired or something?"_

"What you saw last night was not a human." He paused for added effect. "What you saw - rather, looked at, was an Enderman."

_"Slender- what?"_

"Enderman," corrected the bassist. "A tall, black creature turned hostile if you look at it."

Laughter was heard on the other line. _"Hey man, you didn't get a concussion from last night or anything, did you?"_

Tyler was almost offended. "Craig, this is serious. You were lucky you weren't _ripped to shreds. _That Enderman could have killed you-"

_"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, dude. Look, I'm sorry for almost killing you, but there's no need to start talking about my own death."_

"Do you even realize how dire the situation is?" Tyler cried out, clutching the still warm mug close to him. "People have _died _from the Creeper explosions! And now you're telling me that I'm not supposed to believe a child's game is actually leaking into the real world?" He gasped for air after his outburst; he just couldn't hold it all in any longer.

_"...You're starting to scare me, Ty. What's all this nonsense about dying?" _Craig sounded genuinely afraid from the tone of his voice. _"I __don't like it. I don't want to die."_

The bassist had finally calmed down enough to speak normally. "You won't die if you're careful next time. Honestly, I can't even tell apart games from reality anymore."

_"So, uh, what do I do?"_

"If you see _anything _that looks remotely like it came straight from Minecraft, don't hesitate to tell me. And watch where you're going next time." Thus the call abruptly ended.

Just as Tyler was about to turn his phone off and head straight to the sink to wash his mug, he received a text from somebody he hadn't expected to receive a text from.

_yo dude  
something weeiird just happened  
remember the huge spider in my dorm?_

Craig Jackson, Jake Springer... Tyler never realized how social he actually was.

_Yes, I do recall. What happened?_

_dude like i went back to my dorm after crashing at a friends place  
n the spider was gone!  
like poof  
it was gone like the wind_

It was gone?

yeah  
weird shit but at least now i can go back in my dorm  
haha hope u had a good mornin

Tyler closed his eyes and nodded thoughtfully. _Interesting. Very interesting. The spider despawned after Jake had left its vicinity, just like in the game. _With full alertness thanks to the coffee, and a goal in mind, he set off to work on research pertaining to the interesting creatures known as mobs.

**A/N: Short short short. Sorry sorry sorry.**

**And half-assedness errywhere.**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


	14. Chapter 14

_Creatures from a video game,  
From the broken screen they came,  
Wrecked and set our world aflame,_  
_Forever shall they roam untamed._

The hazy glow of the warm sunset painted the blank canvas that was the sky with its slowly undulating hues of red, ochre, and purple. The air was clean and fresh, and smelled faintly of grass and rain. Summer was just around the corner, so Mother Nature squeezed the last remaining droplets of rain that day to make way for the dry season. In a month, spring would be over. In a month, they would all graduate.

In a month, anything can happen.

Tyler was on his way home from college, tired from all the work he'd missed the days before, when a low whisper tickled his neck. "Turn around."

Startled, he spun around to come face-to-face with a certain someone he knew so very well. "Desmond! Goodness, don't do that."

"Can't help it. It's fun." The drummer stretched his arms and yawned. "Whatcha doing here?"

"This is the route I take going home."

"Eh? It is? It's mine, too! And Craig's, too. Too too too." He flashed a huge grin. "Do-doo-doo! HuskyMudkipz!"

"What reason do you have for following me?" asked Tyler, ignoring his friend's randomness.

"Craig didn't want to use his car anymore. Probably 'cause of last night. And hey, it takes some dying to feel alive, right?"

The bespectacled male was somewhat rendered speechless. He had no counter to that statement.

"Anyway," said Desmond, slumping an arm around Tyler's shoulders, "let's go. Craig's out with his girlfriend tonight, so it'll just be me and you. Bros, right?"

It was hard to fight back a smile. "Bros."

* * *

The dense overhang of verdant leaves cast eerie shadows upon the ground, dancing soundlessly to the rustling of the trees in the chilly wind. Beyond the two college students stretched a long road of untouched land, long since forgotten like the mosses crawling on the bark of the trees. The moon, in its delicate crescent shape, stripped itself of its clouds and now hung proudly in the deep navy sky. Whispers blown by the wind tickled their ears, gliding through holes and cracks in the rocks, vaguely mimicking the hooting of a tired owl.

"Are you sure we're supposed to go this way?" asked Tyler, wrapping the scarf tighter around his neck. The strangulation marks had mostly faded, leaving faint bruises in their wake. "I've never been on this path before."

"Silly Tyler, that's what makes it fun!" chirped the drummer, hopping a little in his step and making his spiky, pale blond hair jump with him. "Don't worry, I've been here before. Not at night, though, but I _have _been here before. I swear!"

"Are you absolutely _certain _we are not lost? I have a feeling we are miles from where we should be-"

"Loosen up a little, will ya?" Desmond took notice of a little pebble and started kicking it around as they hiked through the lush vegetation. He came to an abrupt halt when his head cocked to one side, ears not hearing, but _listening. _"Shh. Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" replied Tyler, who didn't want any of his friend's attempts to scare him. But there was something stern, something serious about the drummer's voice that indicated he was perhaps not joking.

"Shush, man." A pause. "What the hell is that sound? It's like... clacking... rocks...? Hmm."

As they stood there in eerie silence, the rattling noise grew louder and louder, almost to the point that whatever was making the clattering was just hiding in the bushes.

The bassist, exasperated and very much disconcerted, heaved and said, "Oh, for God's sake, Desmond! Stop fooling around-"

It was quick, that weapon. A shaft made of the sturdiest wood, and the head, so sharp and carved into the most precise v-shape; the entire body was structured in an almost-perfect straight line. At the tail end was the feather - "fletchling," as professionals called it - which tickled Desmond's outer ear when it nearly shot straight through the entire thing. He was at a loss for words; blood dripped from where the arrow had grazed it, staining his grey jacket.

The rattling had stopped. The winds stopped. Even the once steady breathing of the two students stopped.

Tyler was the first to speak up. "What-"

"Duck!"

His body immediately met the ground when Desmond pushed him to the side. Pain shot up his torso - curses for being so frail! - and atop him the drummer scrambled to get off him. Finally they had gotten up from the ground, and Tyler didn't looked happy one bit. "Desmond-"

"Run!" came the frantic reply.

Desmond wasted no time running from... what exactly? Baffled by his friend's behavior, Tyler stared at the darkness by the thick tree trunks, only to be stared back by two glowing red pupils hidden behind one of the shrubs. Slowly, ever-so slowly, a pale white object emerged from the cloak of darkness, except it wasn't just an ordinary object - it was a skull. And with its sharp crimson gaze, it stared back at Tyler.

He saw its skeletal hand pull the string of the bow back, to shoot another arrow at its target - none other than him. Had Desmond not called his name again, urging him to run towards the end of the forest trail, the bassist might not have moved a muscle and dodged yet another arrow shot by the skeleton.

_Run, _he encouraged himself. _Run. Find Desmond, find the exit. Just run._

And run he did, quite swiftly for his pathetically wimpy body. The blonde awaited him at the end of the path, waving his arm and coaxing Tyler to sprint as fast as he could. Only when he reached the exit did he finally stop to breathe.

"Did you... did you see what I saw?" said Tyler, gasping for air like a fish on dry land..

Desmond did not reply; he was preoccupied with touching his wounded ear, the same one the arrow had pierced. "My ear... it's bleeding."

As the bassist leaned in closer, he noticed that it was, indeed, dripping blood. "Why... is it bleeding?"

"Because of that _son of a fuck!_" He shifted from shocked to furious in seconds. That was enough to scare Tyler, maybe even more than the skeleton did. "That fuckin' arrow flying by like it was some bullet or something, and that bitch thought it was funny, oh I bet he did!" On and on did he ramble about the mob.

However, Tyler took no notice of his friend's sudden outburst; he was too caught up in his own thoughts and came to a grim conclusion.

_Monsters spawn in dark places. Nobody is safe at night anymore._

"Dude," said Desmond, finally having calmed down from his explosive rant, "let's just go home. No way am I ever gonna go through here again."

* * *

It was almost 8 in the evening when the duo realized that they should part ways.

"My place is this way," stated the drummer, pointing towards a path lined with several street lamps. They made the trail appear safer somehow. "So, uh, see you?"

"Will you be alright? Your ear-"

"My ear's fine, dude." Desmond let out a hearty laugh. "It stopped bleeding already. What I'm worried about is you. Will _you _be safe?"

That, Tyler could not answer.

"Well, y'know, I can walk you all the way home-"

"No, no, it's fine," replied the bassist. He could not stand the thought of putting his friends at risk. Then again, what made him think the mobs were following just him? It would be arrogant to think so. Haven't other people been reported dead or missing? Or was he just destined to die at the hands of monsters, who were once thought to be fictional? Either way, he did not want to lose Desmond or Craig or anybody else in the same manner. It would break his heart.

The drummer huffed. "If you say so. Just don't... y'know... _die._ Because seriously, that would suck balls."

"Don't tempt fate, Desmond."

"I won't."

Having their farewells said, the pair went off in their own direction, each of them worried about the other's welfare. It was natural to feel that way, wasn't it? Two friends, who had just brushed past Death, concerned with each other's safety. But they trusted destiny enough to not let them die that night.

Maybe destiny was saving it for another time.

**A/N: You know you've been slacking off when you can't even follow your own 2K word rule.**

**I'm sorry for the slow update. I really am! I just couldn't find time nor energy to continue this. Don't think that I've abandoned this, because I hate leaving things unfinished. School is just... bleh. In a year or two, I'll be graduating. Stress is my best friend now.**

**...I wonder if you guys still even bother to check for updates ;u;**

**Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!**


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